Lower Manhattan was dreary that morning. I wondered what was happening. In my rush, the downpour didn’t even bother me. I had to get to work. Work was my job as a top-notch investment banker at Goldman Sachs. My loft was only a few blocks away, so I spent all my days at work anyway; only coming home for a change of clothes. It was even worse at peak seasons of the stock market. At those times, I rarely saw my apartment. A relationship was out of the question when I rarely saw my own housekeeper, Mrs Parks. She did an impeccable job anyway. At the end of the month, my assistant Clara mails her a cheque . Life was good and I was a millionaire many times over. For a young man in his early thirties, that was a feat. No doubt, I was a brilliant investment banker. I lived for my work.
Mama kept calling to tell me to smell the roses. I used to tell her “Mama ,if smelling the roses brought money, I’ll joyfully do so.” I was driven and ambitious; an unstoppable train. There were fewer people in the elevator that morning. For some reason, I noticed that for the first time. Usually I’m busy analysing stock portfolios in my head. Clara, her ever efficient self, already had steaming coffee and the morning paper waiting on my table. “Hello Clara “, I rarely paid attention to her reply. I settled into my chair and picked up the paper. The headlines weren’t what I expected “ Major Hurricane Looming Over New York”. It was predicted to start in two days.
Two days later, I found myself in my apartment with nothing to do. Wall Street and the New York Stock Exchange had been closed. I was running low on supplies ,as Mrs Parks had not come in for a while. She was spending the gloomy time with her family. The strong wind raged on outside. I moved to the window to take a look at the view outside. The wind was merciless. They said on the news that morning that the worst of the hurricane was still to come. How much worse could this get ? I can’t stay holed up this way all day. I have to go the grocery store and stock up on supplies. I obviously couldn’t drive in that weather. Besides the store was only a few blocks away. I picked up my wallet and made my way out of the building. I don’t remember how far I had walked, but for several blocks ,no store was opened. The wind was now insane, moving at 90 miles per hour, the storm was raging angrily.
The lightening was swift and the thunder deafening. It struck down the huge tree a few yards in front of me. As the tree came crashing down, it caught the power line. Electric sparks went up in the air as they both went down. The power in the neighbourhood went out, as I ran into the nearest building for safety. I didn’t even know where I was, but the building was more secure than standing outside in the open. There was a staircase, but I could see nothing. Everywhere was dark. I felt my way upstairs and realised the door was open. How many hours before this passed anyway, I could be nice to the owner of the apartment and send them a cheque later. I pushed the door ajar and saw that the hallway was empty. I ventured further into the apartment and saw a young woman asleep on the sofa in the living room. She seemed oblivious to the world around her. She was at peace. The single light of a scented candle, glowed and made her face soft. The sweet smell of lavender wafted into my nose.
Her eyes flickered open some seconds later, as if she knew someone was looking at her. Her reaction was not of one who was afraid. ”Who are you?” she, asked calmly. Her reaction surprised me. ”I’m sorry, the storm got worse outside and I’m stranded. Sorry to barge in on you like this. The power’s out and I can’t see my way”.
“It’s ok. I’m Eva and you’re…”,She reached out her hand in greeting.
“I’m Chris” ,I replied.
“Can I make you some coffee? And don’t say no. I rarely get visitors around here since I returned from the hospital. I have cancer, you see. And my friends would rather avoid me, than come visit and hold back their tears. Frankly, I like it that way. I don’t want their pity. I have a month to live and I’ll rather live it up.”, she said so easily.
“Err…I…”,I stuttered. I didn’t know what to say. As she stood up from the sofa ,I realised she was beautiful and well-proportioned ,even with the wool cap she had on. It was obvious she used the cap to hide her baldness from the chemotherapy.
“My, you’re one brave woman” ,I said finally finding my voice. She sauntered to the kitchen with effort .I could tell she was around 26.Why would cancer want to take such a young , vibrant person? A moment later, she was back with two mugs of coffee.
“I was so mad when I was diagnosed six months ago .I had everything going for me and a wonderful career.” She said as she handed me a mug. She proceeded to seat on the plush carpet and I followed suit.
“I know what you’re thinking. Where’s my family ? My mum died when I was just a child. Never knew her. I have an estranged dad though .He lives on the west coast and has since remarried. He’s a workaholic like me. He was just on his way here, when all inbound flights were stopped, because of the hurricane.”
“I’m so sorry “ I said, feeling such sympathy for a young person who had experienced so much pain.
“Sorry for rambling on about myself. Who are you and what do you do ? “ Her question caught me unawares.
“I’m Chris McNamara, investment banker, Goldman Sachs”. Then I saw that look I dread, the look of recognition.
“Same Chris McNamara ? See what Hurricane Sandy blew in “, she teased. I smiled uncomfortably.
“So what would you do Chris if you had only a month to live ? “,Her question hit me below the belt. I was caught unawares. I stared into space for a long time. I had never thought of it.
I then realized how inconsiderate I was, as she shifted uncomfortably. I reached out for some throw pillows and used them to support her.
“Is that better?”
“Yes, thank you”
“I’ve never asked myself that question” ,I started.
“Most people don’t .I didn’t myself, until cancer stopped me in my tracks six months ago. I had to think of what was really important. Not my job, not my career ,not the shopping sprees in exotic places. They lost their significance. I began to think .I asked myself if I had really lived .Maybe I could have done more, loved more, cared more and smelled the roses. I feel death coming closer and there are still so many questions unanswered.
So many places left unseen. As soon as Sandy subsides, I’m packing my bags for Thailand. I’ve always wanted to go there. As for love, I admit I failed on that front. I have no regrets though. I have made my peace with myself and with my God”
A huge lump was forming in my throat. My entire life was going through my head. If and when my time came, would I even have time to make peace like Eva ?
In that moment Beyonce’s song played in my head;
I wanna leave my footprints on the sands of time
Know there was something that, meant something that I left behind
When I leave this world, I’ll leave no regrets
Leave something to remember, so they won’t forget
I was here
I lived, I loved
I was here
I did, I’ve done everything that I wanted
And it was more than I thought it would be
I will leave my mark so everyone will know
I was here
I want to say I lived each day, until I died
And know that I meant something in, somebody’s life
The hearts I have touched, will be the proof that I lived
That I made a difference, and this world will see
I was here
Opemipo Adebanjo
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